


met a lot of people but nobody feels like you

by jvrcus



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 17:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20313124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jvrcus/pseuds/jvrcus
Summary: five times emily realized she wasn't the right person for auston + one time she did something about it





	met a lot of people but nobody feels like you

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimers:  
\- this is a work of fiction don't get triggered  
\- I DIDN'T MEAN FOR IT TO GET SO EMOTIONAL AT THE END I'M SORRY

The ringing of the doorbell snaps her out of her morning daydream. She shoots Auston a quizzical look over her cereal. He shrugs and puts down the milk, shuffling to the door.

“Where is he?!” The shrill demand rings out into the apartment as soon as Auston unlocks the door. 

“Thanks a lot, missed you too mom.” Auston’s rolling his eyes but his smile betrays him. He pulls her in for a hug and moves to the side as the rest of his family enters. “On the couch, but please don’t wake him up, practice ran long last night.”

“Little late for that.” Mitch appears in the doorway with his hair tousled, still in his pajamas. He’s wearing an annoyed look but the corners of his mouth, which tug upward, say otherwise. 

“MIJO!” Auston’s mom shrieks. The girls let out squeals, pushing past Auston and latching onto Mitch’s side. Auston’s dad cracks a fond smile, a strange feature to see on his face, and ruffles Mitch’s hair. “Missed you, son.”

Soon the attention switches to her, and they’re so sweet to her just like always, but she can’t help but wonder if Auston’s mom will ever have the same affection for her as she does for Mitch when the first thing she does is rush to the kitchen because it’s “been far too long since he’s had her tortilla soup”. She can’t help but wonder if Auston’s dad will ever talk to her as enthusiastically as he’s talking to Mitch right now, debating ice tactics and fantasy hockey with him. She wonders if Breyana will ever be as comfortable around her as she is with Mitch, talking his ear off about everything going on in her life. She can’t picture Alexandria ever treating her like a little sister like she treats Mitch like a little brother, teasing him relentlessly but always with a smirk to reassure him that she’s joking. 

And the part that tugs at her heart the most, maybe, is how Auston watches everything with shining eyes and a constant smile, like nothing could make him happier.

________________

Driving shotgun in Auston’s car has never felt completely comfortable. How can it, when everyone knows it’s Mitch’s seat? She always has to pull the seat back up when she gets in because Mitch sleeps on the way back from practice (which is why he usually ends up staying the night). The seat has Mitch’s Leafs hoodie draped over it, the glove compartment is filled with Mitch’s tape and wax, and Mitch’s spare sticks are always thrown onto the backseat. It always confuses her that Auston doesn’t seem to mind that Mitch leaves his beanies and Beats all over the dashboard because one of the things they bonded over when they first started dating was that they both hated messes with a passion. 

But Mitch seems to be the exception to a lot of things. For one, Auston will not allow anyone to keep their shoes on in his apartment, but Mitch walks around in his runners all the time and Auston never complains. Auston, like a true American, sticks almost exclusively to beer (with the occasional glass of wine or margarita), but somehow whisky always finds its way into their cart when they go grocery shopping. She’s not one to point it out, but she notices. 

They pull up into the arena a few hours before the game per usual, and a teammate of Austons (one of the rookies?) jogs up next the car, rapping on the window. He’s out of breath and has an air of nervousness. 

“Hey, um, try not to freak out or anything but Mitch kind of passed out during practice. Hit his head. A few of the other guys are driving him to the ER, they told me to let you know in case you wanted to meet them there.” He pats Auston on the shoulder before jogging back into the facility. 

Auston immediately makes a U-turn and pulls back out of the parking lot. They’ve gone through two intersections before Auston finally says something. “Shit, what hospital?! Emily, he didn’t fucking say what hospital, where the fuck am I going?! Shit!” She urges him to pull over and when he finally does he rests his head on the steering wheel, running his hands through his hair and heaving out breaths. It’s scaring her a little bit; in all the time she’s known Auston, he hasn’t lost his cool once. 

“You fucking idiot, Mitch Marner!” Auston says upon entering the hospital room. “Who the fuck forgets to drink water?” He tosses Mitch’s hoodie onto a chair. “Oh, and you left your sweatshirt in my car too.” 

He continues to berate and lightly tease Mitch. As she goes to grab something from the vending machine (to be honest, it’s more of an excuse to get a breather than an actual desire for a snack), she thinks What happened to the Auston that nearly broke down on the side of the road? What happened to the Auston who, ten minutes ago, puked out his breakfast on the sidewalk in front of the hospital? 

When she returns to the room, she stops in her tracks in the doorway. Mitch has fallen asleep and Auston’s leaning over him, carding his fingers gently through Mitch’s hair. It’s strangely affectionate and she can’t help but feel like she’s intruding on something, so she retreats back into the waiting room. 

__________________

“Hey, Mitch, can you help me with something?” She fiddles with a mug, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. She’s making cocoa for herself and Auston, who will be back from practice soon. 

Mitch glances up from the TV, where he’s been sitting pretty much all day (his recent ER visit led to a mandatory two-day break from practice). He looks at her expectantly. 

“I don’t know what to get Auston for his birthday.”

Mitch switches off the TV and pauses for a moment. “Dutch Bros gift cards are always a good bet, he gets that shit all the time whenever he’s back in Scottsdale. You know he likes rap, -“ (she didn’t know) “- so maybe get him tickets to a concert. Pretty sure Post Malone is coming here close to his birthday, and Chance the Rapper too I think.”

“But hey, you’re his girlfriend, he’ll like anything as long as it’s coming from you.” (This comes after a few moments pause, and she wonders if it’s truly reassurance or just an attempt at a distraction from his quick response. Either way, she thanks him appreciatively). 

“‘Course. Hey, s’that for Aus?” He asks, pointing at the cocoa. She nods and he says, “Marshmallows are in the bottom left cabinet. Don’t put too many though, he says it waters down the chocolate flavor when it melts. Whatever the fuck that means.”

She definitely doesn’t think about how quickly he’d answered, like he’d already thought about it despite Mitch’s birthday being months away. (Even if he hadn’t thought about it, and he just knows Auston well enough to answer that quickly, it still doesn’t make her feel much better). And she definitely doesn’t feel guilt in the pit of her stomach when she hands Auston the tickets a few months later and his eyes positively light up with glee. It doesn’t help that he says “You know me so well, Ems”, with a huge grin on his face that makes her want to sink down into the sofa. 

__________________

Auston’s sulking. This just adds to the list of things she doesn’t understand about hockey players; why are they so upset about losing if it’s just a game? Yeah, Auston’s wrist shot went a little wide towards the end of the last period so she gets that he’s blaming himself a little but she didn’t think that hours later he’d still be replaying the videos religiously. She’s tried to make him feel better, said “It’s not your fault” thousands of times, but it’s like it goes through one ear and out the other. 

She’s tucked under his arm on the bed, and he’s flipping through the plays, eyes glued to the TV. Loud ringing sounding from his phone is what finally steals his attention away from the screen. 

“Hey man,” she hears Mitch’s voice through the phone when he picks up. “You still watching?” Auston lies straight through his teeth but she resists the urge to call him out on it because she has a feeling Mitch somehow already knows. 

Mitch doesn’t miss a beat. “Don’t stress it man, can’t win ‘em all, right? We’ll be back at practice tomorrow, patching up the holes, and then we’ll crush them Thursday night to take the series, okay?” Auston hums in response. 

It gets quiet for awhile and she assumes Mitch has hung up but before she can drift off Mitch’s voice breaks through the phone again, with a loud “Auston Matthews, Auston Matthews, hit ‘em with the four like Auston Matthews!” It does the job as she feels Auston’s ribs shake with laughter. It’s rare to hear a true Auston laugh, and she tries to think back to the last time she’s gotten him to laugh, feeling a bitter taste in her mouth when she can’t quite remember. It frustrates her that all it takes is one phone call from Mitch to accomplish what she’s been trying (and failing) to do all night. Mitch continues with his questionable rendition of the song with Auston laughing along like an idiot, and by the time she gets up to brush her teeth the TV has finally been turned off. 

_________________

The cacophony is shut out the moment she enters the locker room. She’s thankful for the moment of relief from the hell outside; if she didn’t know how crazy the crowds get at the Stanley Cup Finals before, she definitely knows now. All of the boys seem perfectly calm- they’re used to this, she guesses- but she hates the chaos. The guys are lining up to leave, and she shoots them encouraging smiles. 

“Hey, Morgan. Good luck out there. You guys got this.”  
“Thanks. You’re a cool girl, Emily.” He winks at her, pulling her in for a sideways hug. “I approve.” 

When he’s halfway out the door, he pauses, as if he’s wondering if he should add something or not. Finally he says, almost as an afterthought, “It’s weird how things turn out though, you know. Kind of always thought he’d end up with Marns.”

He steps out into the tunnel, following the rest of the team, and the pit in her stomach is back. 

Mitch scores the winning goal. He dekes what seems like the entire opposing team and puts the puck right in the top shelf. Auston gets to him first, lifting him off the ice in a tight hug. Seconds later gloves are flying, everyone’s charging Anderson and the crowd is going nuts, but she can’t seem to take her eyes off of the two of them in the middle of the ice, arms around each other in a way that seems like they just fit. Reilly’s words play through her mind when she focuses on Auston tucked into Mitch’s shoulder, looking more at home then she’s ever seen him. 

(Then it’s the after party, and everyone’s drunk it seems, except for Mitch, who’s got an arm slug around Auston’s shoulder, gently nudging him into the passenger seat. Auston’s curled into Mitch’s side, clinging to him like he never wants to let go, mumbling nonstop into his ear, and she’s starting to wonder if there was ever any competition.)

________________

+1

She knows the difference between love and being in love. 

Mitch is on the dance floor, twirling his date around in circles. It strikes her how charming he really is; he’s not a clumsy dancer at all, which for some reason she had expected, and he manages to be sweet and gentle while maintaining an air of confidence. She peeks a glance at Auston standing beside her at the bar, and his expression knocks the breath out of her lungs. He’s staring in the exact spot she was, with his gaze so thick with longing that if it was tangible the humidity in the room would skyrocket. 

Realization crashes over her like a wave. “You’re not in love with me.” It’s soft, she practically breathes it out, and Auston snaps out of his stupor, eyes locking into hers. He wasn’t meant to hear it, but it’s probably best that he did. 

“What?” He says concernedly, grabbing her hands in his. “I love you Ems, you know that.”

“Yes, I know that. But you’re not in love with me.”

His crestfallen expression makes her heart ache. Desperate to make him understand, she looks at Mitch again, and then back at Auston.

His eyes widen. “No, no,” he says, shaking his head. He stumbles back a little and grabs the edge of the bar for support. His shoulders slump back, and he collapses into the bar chair, bowing his head and burying it in his hands. 

“Hey, hey.” She places a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

When he finally looks up, his eyes are red and his previously-gelled hair is disheveled. “Shit,” he whispers. “What do I do?”

He looks so pitiful that she doesn’t even have the heart to feel sorry for herself. “Something. It’s been too long, don’t wait any longer.” 

He stares at her, then pulls her into a bone-crushing hug. “I really do love you, you know,” he mutters into her shoulder, voice wavering a little. He looks at the untouched margarita in front of him, and she thinks he’s about to take a sip, but he instead pushes it away and gets up quickly, pushing his way through the dance floor determinedly. 

Mitch turns away from his date with a huge grin as soon as he sees Auston, who doesn’t waste a second before leaning down and capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s soft and slow and Mitch’s eyes flutter closed. 

As soon as it ends Mitch’s confused eyes find hers over the crowd, and she gives him a watery smile and a small nod. 

He turns back to Auston, putting a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him back down. Auston grips the front of Mitch’s crisp white shirt, like he never wants to let go.

It’s so sweet that for a moment she forgets to be sad.


End file.
